Breaking the Web
by Jo. R
Summary: AU continuation of season seven's 'Rule 51'.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Breaking the Web  
Author: Jo. R (driftingatdusk)  
Rating: FR-15  
Pairing: Abby/Gibbs  
Characters: Abby, Gibbs, Jackson  
Category: Post-ep, Drama, Angst, Fluff, Romance, Friendship  
Spoilers: The season seven story-arc, especially 'Rule 51'  
Summary: An alternate universe continuation of the episode 'Rule 51', teeny tiny mention of 'Bloodbath'  
Author's Notes: Taking a few little liberties with the timing of the last few scenes in the season seven finale here – the last scene and the ceremony overlapped somewhat for the purpose of this story.

* * *

Her phone beeped as they were leaving for the nearest bar. Abby Sciuto exchanged a smile with Ziva David, both hoping it was from their errant leader, both hoping it was an explanation for his absence throughout the citizenship ceremony.

Her smile began to fade when she saw the unfamiliar number and the colour drained from her face entirely when she opened the image attached to the ominous message of 'Tell anyone and he's dead'.

Jackson Gibbs stared at her from the phone's small screen, one side of his face marred by an ugly bruise, a trickle of blood running down the side of his face from a wound at his temple, merging with a drier trail from a wound at the corner of his mouth.

"Abby?" Ziva looked at her in concern, slowing to a halt when she realised her friend wasn't keeping up. "Are you okay..?"

Taking the threat in the message to heart, Abby forced herself to smile and tilted the phone away from Ziva's curious gaze. "Fine." She cleared her throat when her voice sounded feeble. "I'm fine. Just a message from a friend. You guys... You guys go on, okay? I'll meet you there."

"Are you sure, Abby?" Ziva studied her intently as Tim McGee walked back to join them and see what they were doing. "We could wait for you."

"No, no, I'm fine. Really. She's just having a bit of man trouble." Her smile was overtly bright but Abby hoped they didn't notice. "I won't be long. Ten minutes, tops. Really. Go. Celebrate. I'll be right behind you."

"If you are sure." Ziva's dark gaze looked uncertain but she let herself be led away reluctantly by McGee, who also threw Abby a concerned look over his shoulder.

The NCIS forensic specialist managed to keep her smile in place until they were far enough away not to see it and stared down at her phone again as it began to vibrate in her hand, signalling an incoming call since she'd had it on silent for the actual ceremony.

She hit the accept button and lifted the phone to her ear, her green eyes narrowing as she looked around on the off chance there'd be someone else talking on a cell phone nearby. "Who is this?"

"You have forgotten me already, Abby?" The voice of Alejandro Rivera greeted her smoothly. "That is a shame. I have a mutual acquaintance of ours who no doubt wishes he could."

"Alejandro?" A cold shiver swept down her spine and her heart began to race. "Why... You have Jackson?"

"Si, Abby. I have Senor Gibbs with me. He is not being very cooperative but he is here." The smile she could detect in his tone made her shudder. "We were wondering, perhaps, if you would care to join us."

"Join you where?" Her stomach churned uneasily and she pressed a hand against it, willing herself not to throw up. "What are you doing, Alejandro? Why...?"

A humourless laugh escaped her caller. "Your Special Agent Gibbs did not tell you? I would have thought he'd have learned his lesson regarding keeping secrets." Alejandro muttered something she couldn't hear clearly under his breath. "No matter. We will explain all when you get here, Abby. If you wish to join us, of course. If you do not..." He sighed dramatically. "If you do not, I fear Senor Gibbs will not make it through another night of our company."

A dozen questions or more ran through her mind at once. Abby squeezed her eyes shut against the dull ache in her head, the hand that wasn't gripping the phone clasped so tightly her nails left crescent-shaped indents in the flesh of her palm. "I want to speak to Jackson first."

"A wise request, Abby," Alejandro sounded almost approving. "And one I would be happy to grant. Senor Gibbs? Perhaps you would be so kind as to invite Abby to join us?"

There was a slight scuffling noise, a muffled sound that could have been a cry of pain as flesh encountered flesh. "Abby. Whatever they do, don't come here. Don't..."

The cry that cut him off wasn't entirely muffled and Abby felt her stomach lurch once more.

Jackson Gibbs meant a lot to her, though she could count on one hand the amount of times they'd met. Not only was he Gibbs' father, he was a genuine old-fashioned gentleman who'd been kind to her, flirted with her, intrigued by the things that made her different rather than being disgusted or disturbed like so many others when she met them for the first time.

"Tell me where you are," she found herself saying. "If you give me your word he'll be alive when I get there, I'll come."

"I give you my word, Abby. Senor Gibbs will be alive when you join us." Alejandro gave her directions, repeating them twice to be sure that she understood. "If you tell anyone or bring anyone, we will know, Ms. Sciuto, and Senor Gibbs will die. Do not be foolish. His life is in your hands."

He hung up before she could reply, leaving her feeling cold and scared and wanting, more than anything, to contact Jackson's son and let him know what was going on.

She couldn't risk it, though. Not with Alejandro's threat still ringing in her ears.

Abby took a deep breath that didn't seem to help at all and hurried back in the direction she'd come from, away from the bar where the others waited. She needed a taxi to her apartment, where she could pick up her own car and do as the Mexican official had instructed.

'Hold on, Jackson,' she thought to herself as she slipped into the backseat of the yellow cab that pulled up in response to her hail. 'I'm on my way.'

* * *

It wasn't a warehouse, a dark and dingy stereotypical hangout for bad guys and kidnappers alike. It was a large house in the middle of a vast estate, with acres of trees and landscaped gardens separating it from the next residential property, a good two hours away from the bustling city she'd come to think of as home.

Far enough away from the next house in what was undoubtedly an upper class neighbourhood that a gunshot could sound and no one would hear.

Abby thought that maybe she'd have preferred the warehouse as she drove up the long and winding driveway towards the building that was unmistakably someone's well-tended home.

Alejandro's home, she wondered, or were the true owners unwilling captives like Jackson – or worse.

There was a woman waiting on the front steps of the property, immaculately dressed in a crisp white suit. The woman, Paloma Reynosa, smiled in welcome but it was a cold, calculating look that instantly made Abby begin to regret her decision to follow Alejandro's instructions and tell no one of her plans.

"Ms. Sciuto," Paloma greeted her after Abby got out of her car and approached cautiously. "It is so nice of you to join us."

"You didn't really give me a choice." Abby worked hard at keeping her voice civil – and at keeping the tremor in it from being too noticeable. "I want to see Jackson Gibbs. Now."

Paloma's eyes glinted. "Of course. Alejandro said that you would. If you will follow me..."

"Again, not like I have a choice," Abby muttered under her breath. She fixed another smile on her face as Paloma cast a questioning glance over her shoulder and hurriedly moved to follow.

The inside of the house was just as impressive as the outside, with a mass of rooms and hallways all decadently furnished with rich, luxurious colours and pieces of furniture Abby was sure were antiques.

Her mind was still a whirlwind of activity, struggling to piece together how the Mexican Official she'd actually liked could be in business with the leader of the cartel who'd been out for Gibbs' blood. Struggling to keep calm as a little voice at the back of her mind told her she was walking straight into a trap.

A trap that sprung shut the moment Paloma led her into a room that could have been a study, a room where Jackson Gibbs sat prone in the chair he was bound to.

He looked even worse in person than he had done in the photograph on her phone and he didn't stir when she gasped or when she started to move towards him.

For a horrible few seconds that seemed to last a lifetime, Abby was sure he was already dead.

"He is still alive," Paloma said idly as Abby hurried over and dropped to her knees beside his chair. "At least, he was when I last checked."

Her fingers clasped around his wrist, searching for a pulse even as she turned her head to glare at the other woman over her shoulder. Abby couldn't bite back the sigh of relief that escaped her when she felt a pulse even as her eyes prickled with tears as she turned her attention fully on the man in front of her.

The blood had dried in a crusty stream running down his face and ugly bruises of purple and yellow mottled his too-pale features. His skin was warm and clammy to the touch, his breathing laboured and uneven.

He'd aged a decade, Abby thought, in what she hoped had only been hours as their guest.

"Why are you doing this? Why is he here?" She fastened her hand around his wrist and turned her head to look at Paloma, schooling her features into a neutral expression when she realised they'd been joined by not only Alejandro Rivera but two armed men as well. "What's going on?"

Paloma and Alejandro shared a look. The woman smiled and motioned to Alejandro to answer. "She is your guest, brother. It was you who decided to have her brought here."

"Brother?" Abby shrank back instinctively when Alejandro swaggered towards her. "If you're her brother, than means..."

"That Pedro Hernandez was my father, yes." Alejandra smirked at her as he moved closer. "I see that your Agent Gibbs forgot to mention that. Perhaps he thought the danger had passed? Or perhaps he does not care as much as I believed him to?"

Abby forced herself to stay silent, her hand tightening around Jackson's wrist. Her heart was pounding in her chest, adrenaline-laced blood racing at alarming speeds through her veins. She told herself to breathe slowly and deeply, afraid she would pass out if she didn't keep calm.

"So here we are. The father and the lover." Alejandro beamed, evidently pleased with himself. "Which will he choose, I wonder? That that he can really save either of you, you understand, but it will be interesting, no, to see if he tries?"

"Um. I hate to interrupt but you've got this so wrong." The non-truth in his speech gave her courage even as it made her heart ache a little more in her chest. "I'm not... It's not like that with Gibbs and me. He doesn't... I'm really not his type."

Alejandro arched an eyebrow while his sister glared at him. "Alejandro, you said..."

"Hush, Paloma." The Mexican Justice Department Official dismissed Abby's claims and his sister's concern with the wave of a hand. "You mean much to Agent Gibbs, yes? And he means much to you." Alejandro crouched down in front of her when she didn't – couldn't – deny it and reached out to touch her cheek, chuckling lightly when she flinched away. "He will come for you and his father, Abby. It is just a shame that neither of you will be alive when he does."

The smile dropped from his face and his expression hardened as he turned his attention to the two armed guards who'd entered the room with him. "Take the old man to his room and secure him. I think it is time we had a little chat, Abby, about a certain report you were supposed to send to me..."

* * *

The party was in full swing when he got there three hours after the end of the ceremony – as full as it could be with several people missing. NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs hesitated over the threshold of the bar, forcing a smile and lifting a hand in greeting when Doctor Donald 'Ducky' Mallard spotted him and pointed him out to his companions.

Ziva turned to smile at him, obviously pleased to see him, but there was a shadow in her dark eyes, one he had no doubt he'd contributed to.

He hadn't meant to miss the whole ceremony but memories of his past and thoughts of his future had kept him distracted for a lot longer than he'd thought they would.

It didn't surprise him to find Tony DiNozzo wasn't in attendance – his senior field agent's assignment in Mexico wasn't something Director Leon Vance, who was in attendance, had chosen to keep from him, something Gibbs appreciated more than he could put into words.

What did surprise him was that he saw no sign of Abby Sciuto among the small crowd of NCIS representatives gathered around the woman of the hour. He recognised several agents, saw Jimmy Palmer on one side and Tim McGee on the other side of Ziva, but the black-haired woman he expected to see hugging Ziva every five or so minutes wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Maybe somewhere in the throng of people at the bar, ordering fresh drinks, Gibbs mused as he made his way across the room towards the group. Or maybe she was in the washrooms or dancing on the small but crowded dance floor with whichever guy had got up the nerve to ask her.

Any uneasiness or discomfort he had at *that* thought was quashed almost immediately; he had no rights to her, no claim, no reason to feel jealous and no desire to acknowledge the emotion that flared up inside him at the thought of his forensic specialist in someone else's arms.

"Hey, guys." He greeted them with an easy grin he didn't completely feel and put a hand on Ziva's shoulder. "Sorry I missed the ceremony," he told her, leaning in to kiss her cheek softly in apology. "Something came up."

Ziva gave him a small nod of acceptance, her lips curving upwards in a soft smile at his gesture though the concern still shone in her eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine." For the first time in a long time, Gibbs believed it almost was, too. He scanned the crowd, searching the faces he saw for Abby's trademark grin and bright green eyes, frowning when he couldn't spot her. "Abby not here?"

"A friend called," Ziva shrugged, a flash of hurt he wasn't meant to see in her eyes before she ducked her head. "She said she would meet us later but..."

"If she said she'd be here, she will." Gibbs squeezed her shoulder before letting his hand drop to his side. "Abby won't let you down."

Not like he had, Gibbs thought but didn't say. Ziva smiled, momentarily assured, and let herself be swept away by the conversation around her. A few moments later, a drink was pressed into his hand and Gibbs followed her lead, letting the first sip of bourbon soothe away the nagging sensation in his gut.

* * *

Her head was aching, her jaw throbbing, when she was shown to the guestroom where Jackson Gibbs laid breathing shallowly on the lone bed. She glared at the armed guard who pushed her roughly through the door, ignoring the grin on the man's face as he pulled the door shut behind him and locked it.

Alejandro's interrogation techniques left a lot to be desired, Abby thought as she made her way over to the bed, sinking down on it gratefully.

The dip of the mattress caused him to stir, blue eyes so much like the ones she knew so well looked back at her, momentarily dazed with confusion before clearing, concern and despair shining in their depths. "A... Abby?"

"Shh, Jackson." Leaning closer, she ran a soothing hand over his white hair, concerned at his laboured breathing, worried about the injuries she could see and panicking about the ones she shouldn't. "You need to save your strength, okay?"

"What... What are you doing here?" Jackson frowned at her, reaching out to take the hand she offered with fingers that were bruised and swollen but thankfully all there – thumb included.

Remembering what had happened to the last person she knew who'd gone up against the Reynosa cartel, Abby barely managed to suppress a shudder. "I'm here for the same reason you are. They want to hurt Gibbs." She watched the expression on his face shift, biting her lip uncomfortably at the almost knowing glint in his eye. "It'll be okay, Jackson. Gibbs'll come for us, I know he will."

"Does he know we're here?" The question was followed by a coughing fit that made her wince and brought tears to his eyes.

"He'll know," Abby reassured Jackson with a confidence she didn't quite feel. "And as soon as he does, he'll come for us." Of that, she had no doubt. Her faith in Gibbs might've been shaken a little over the events of the last couple of weeks but she was certain he'd come for them when he knew they were in trouble.

Gibbs didn't believe in leaving anyone behind, especially not those he cared about.

Before Jackson could reply, the sound of the door being unlocked told her that her respite, temporary though it had been, was over. She looked up and over at the door in time to see Paloma step over the threshold, a wicked grin on her face and a cruel glint in her eyes.

"My brother feels it is time you and I had a chat, Ms. Sciuto," Paloma smirked, the blade of the knife in her hand glinting ominously. "He feels a woman-to-woman chat may loosen your tongue. And if that fails, perhaps I will just remove it and send it to your Agent Gibbs as a token of my regard."

Swallowing hard, Abby eyed the knife warily, getting to her feet despite Jackson's attempts at grabbing for her, the old man trying to protect her from what Abby knew was inevitable at greater risk to himself.

Like father, like son, Abby mused, but couldn't find anything to smile about at the thought.

"I'll be fine, Jackson. Really. Just rest, okay?" She didn't look back at him, didn't want him to see the lie as well as hear it. She flinched when Paloma reached out for her, hand tightening around her arm in a bruising grip, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that in the case of Paloma and her brother, the female of the species was far more deadly than the male.

* * *

The ringing of his cell phone didn't register above the din of the bar, which seemed to be getting more and more crowded though the person he wanted to see failed to materialise. It was the vibrating in his pocket that had him reaching for the phone, a frown on his face at the unfamiliar number on the display.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"Probie." The voice was familiar, and one he'd thought he'd never hear again.

"Mike." Gibbs bit back a relieved sigh, turning away slightly from the group he was with so he could hear more clearly. "You okay?"

"As I can be." There was something in Mike Franks' tone, something that immediately had him on edge. "You missing somethin', Probie?"

"I don't know. Am I?" An image flashed unbidden in his mind, the thumb he'd been presented with by Paloma Reynosa, and he winced unwittingly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ziva and McGee move closer to him and wondered what about his body language signalled to them that something was up.

There was a momentary pause on Mike's end, a sound of gravel crunching underfoot. "Maybe one forensic scientist and a father?"

For a split second, his blood ran cold and the world seemed to stop. Gibbs tightened his grip on the phone until he heard a small crack as the plastic casing threatened to give way under the pressure. "Abby and Jack?"

McGee and Ziva moved closer still, alarm in both of their faces.

"Careless of you to lose 'em both, Probie." There was no humour in Mike's voice, none of the dry, sarcastic amusement Gibbs was used to when talking to his mentor. "Lucky for you, I've got my eye on them."

"Where?" Already head towards the door, Gibbs didn't need to look to see if his agents were following him.

"Big house midway between DC and Stillwater. Sending the address to your phone." Mike's voice dropped as if he was afraid someone would overhear him. "Gonna need some backup on this one, or I'd go in myself. DiNozzo's on his way back here but we could use another pair of hands."

Allowing himself only a second to be relieved that Tony was okay and on the way to help, Gibbs quickened his pace as he was finally able to see the door through the crowds between him and it. "They okay?" When Mike didn't answer straight away, Gibbs felt his pulse begin to race with dread. "Mike?"

"Your Dad's in bad shape," Mike answered after what seemed like an age of silence.

His heart pounding in his chest, Gibbs cursed his decision not to bring his car at the same time as being grateful he hadn't given in to the urge to drink too much, too fast. "And Abby?"

Another hesitation, followed by a sigh Gibbs didn't like the sound of floated through the phone. "She's holdin' her own, Probie. Our girl's stronger than we think."

"That's not an answer, Mike." Frustration had him lashing out, hitting the nearest thing available to him. "Is Abby okay?"

Both Ziva and McGee stopped and looked at him, waiting.

"She'll be better when she's out of there," Mike answered tersely, eventually. "You're wastin' time, Gibbs. Time they might not have."

His mentor hung up before Gibbs could say anything else, a shrill beep a few moments later signalling the arrival of the text message holding the address of where Abby and his father were being held.

"Abby and Jack are in trouble," he told his agents grimly, watching as they went from being concerned to serious and determined in a flash.

The celebrations would have to be put on hold, they knew. Until they were all safe and together again.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for all the lovely comments so far! You wouldn't believe how nervous I am about posting (no clue why) so I appreciate each and every one of you leaving feedback, and can only hope you continue to enjoy the story! *hugs*_

* * *

Her arm was broken, and she suspected a couple of ribs were either broken or badly bruised, too. She couldn't put her weight fully on her left leg and was actually grateful for the support the guard gave her as he supported her back to the room that was to be their prison even though she hated the thought of him touching her.

He shoved her forward once they got to the room and Abby couldn't quite bite back a cry as she went over on her already tender leg, sure she could add a sprained ankle to the long list of injuries Paloma Reynosa had inflicted on her.

The woman had enjoyed it, Abby knew, taken a sick sort of pleasure from causing pain. She hadn't really asked many questions, either, certainly none Abby could answer, which had only given the woman the excuse she needed to hurt her victim more.

At least, Abby supposed, she still had all of her fingers and all of her toes. And her tongue, too, despite Paloma's threats.

The room spun when she tried to get to her feet, bright lights dancing in front of her eyes as she tried to stand on her ankle, pain lancing through her and forcing her to swallow hard or else have the breakfast she'd eaten what felt like a lifetime ago make a reappearance on the plush carpet in the guestroom.

Jackson couldn't quite muffle his groan as he got off the bed but seemed a lot steadier on his feet than she was as he helped her stand and led her to the bed he'd so recently vacated.

"You look a mess," he told her honestly, the worry in his eyes taking the edge from his words. He lifted a hand to her forehead and pushed back her hair, a frown he couldn't disguise arranging his features when his fingers came back coated with blood.

Abby felt nauseous again at the belated thought that the blood she could see on his fingertips was hers. "You sure know how to make a girl feel good," she managed, not quite able to get her swollen lip to curve upwards in anything but a twisted parody of a smile.

Jackson didn't smile at her attempt at humour. He grimaced, his bruises and aches and pains fading in comparison to the mass of injuries he could see marring her suddenly all too fragile frame. He watched her squint at him through an eye almost completely swollen shut, saw the pain etched in lines on her face as she held her right arm against her body at an awkward angle.

"Leroy isn't going to like this," he muttered, shaking his head at the thought of his son's reaction. "Whoever these people are, they're going to regret doing this to you."

"You should look in a mirror," Abby tried to say, wincing when she tried to take a deep breath only to have her ribs protest. "I don't think either of us are gonna be winning any prizes for our looks at the moment, Jackson."

There was a long pause as they stared at each other, cataloguing injuries, bruises, trying not to let their worry for the other show. Jackson settled himself on the bed beside her, feeling far older than he had a right to, wanting to close but reluctant to do so until he was sure he wouldn't fall asleep and leave Abby on her own to defend herself.

Not that he'd be able to do much to protect her, he thought ruefully, cursing his own injuries and his age. But he might be able to convince them to take him next time if he was still awake.

He watched as her eyes closed, a look of concentration on her face as beads of sweat broke out across her brow. He noted that she grasped the blankets with her good hand in a fist and guessed rightly that she was trying to keep from passing out herself as her body tried to retreat into itself at the pain it was feeling.

She was a strong girl, Abby Sciuto, Jackson thought with a pride almost akin to that of a father. A good match for his equally stubborn son, though where that thought had come from took some remembering.

"The father and lover," Jackson recalled quietly, an eyebrow arched when her eyes flickered open to look at him in surprise. "I was awake, for the most part. He implied you and Leroy..."

"He's wrong," Abby murmured, and the certainty with which she said so combined with the flash of pained longing in the eye that wasn't swollen shut made his heart ache. "Gibbs doesn't see me like that, Jackson, you're safe. You won't be getting me as a daughter-in-law anytime soon, I promise."

His eyebrow arched higher and he held her gaze when she would have looked away. "What makes you think I'd have a problem with that if I did?"

Abby's laugh was cut short by pain slicing through her and the sound, however brief, had no humour to it. Just a sad tinge that made Jackson wonder. "Not exactly daughter-in-law material here, Jackson. No one's parents would be thrilled to have me show up on their doorstep, I'm sure. Besides, it's a moot point. Gibbs doesn't think of me that way and even if he did, he's involved with someone else. Alejandro got it wrong and just wants to cover with his sister. Think it's clear who's in control in their relationship."

It was growing harder for her to stay conscious, harder not to give in to her body's demands to sleep and rest and try to recover. Jackson, understanding, remembering his own futile fight with his body mere hours ago, patted her hand in understanding.

"Go to sleep. You'll feel better for it."

She smiled at him, appreciating the sentiment though knowing it was a lie, and gave in to her body's demands, hoping she would wake up in her own bed and find the whole experience had been nothing but a bad nightmare.

* * *

If it was a nightmare, it was amongst the worst she'd had and was by far the most realistic. Abby woke up not in the guestroom where she'd fallen asleep – lost consciousness, a voice at the back of her mind pointed out – but back in the mockery of a living room where Paloma and Alejandro liked to do their questioning.

"Where is the report?" Alejandro drew back his hand and hit her across the cheek when she didn't answer fast enough.

Swallowing the blood she could taste in her mouth rather than given him the satisfaction of spitting it out, Abby waited until she was sure she wasn't going to gag before replying. "I gave it to the task force."

Alejandro lashed out again, forcing a cry from her throat. "I am the task force!"

"I don't know what to say to you." Abby hated the sting of tears in her eyes and did her best to blink them away before he could see them. "I don't know what you want to hear."

"The truth!" Anger flashed on his face. "I want the truth!"

"I'm telling you the truth. You just don't want to believe it." She hung her head, preparing herself for another blow. "Tell me what you want me to say and I'll say it but I'm telling you the truth. I passed the report to the task force as I was ordered to do."

"You expect me to believe that? You expect me to believe you would betray Agent Gibbs?" The disbelief and scorn on Alejandro's face was echoed by the tone of voice he used. "Come now, Abby, we both know better than that. You would never do such a thing to a man who means so much to you."

Lifting her head, Abby wasn't sure if the tears stinging her eyes were ones of frustration or shame. "I did. He told me to do my job, so I did. I know you don't believe me, Alejandro. A few weeks ago, I wouldn't have believed me. But Gibbs asked me to hand the report over so I did."

Alejandro stared at her, searching her face for any sign that she was telling a lie. He shook his head, not wanting to believe that she was telling the truth and reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a knife not at all dissimilar to the one Abby recalled Paloma wielding.

"Then I am sorry it has to end this way, Abigail, but you are of no use to me now." He took a step closer, the sharp edge of the blade aimed at her throat.

Closing her eyes, Abby waited for the fatal blow, sending a silent, desperate apology in her mind to both Gibbs men.

The blade nicked her skin but the unmistakable sound of a gunshot filled her eyes before the edge could dig in deeper.

Abby opened her eyes in time to see Alejandro's stunned expression as he fell backwards, away from her, the knife that would have killed her falling limply from his hand as blood began to ooze from the almost neat bullet wound on his forehead.

From behind her, someone rushed to the chair she was tied to, strong fingers, calloused fingers pulling at the ropes keeping her secure even as their owner dropped to a crouch beside her, staring up at her as she turned her head to check it wasn't her imagination playing tricks on her.

Gibbs stared back, blue eyes full of apology as his trembling fingers finally undid the knots in the rope.

"Jackson..."

"Safe," Gibbs murmured roughly, standing, drawing her up with him and folding her into his arms as gently as he could. "Jack's safe, Abby, and so are you."

Her gaze falling to the body on the floor, Abby felt her own go limp, darkness creeping around the edge of her vision as she felt herself being lowered to the floor, the reassuring sound of Gibbs' heart beating beneath her ear telling her that maybe it was real.

* * *

They'd almost been too late – he'd almost been too late.

Securing the house, taking down the armed guards hired by the Reynosa Cartel, searching the rooms for Abby and his father... It'd taken longer than they'd thought, longer than they'd hoped, and that had almost cost Abby her life.

Gibbs shuddered as he held her hand in the back of the ambulance, sitting beside his father as they were taken to the nearest hospital so both Abby and Jackson could get the medical attention they needed.

Casting a sidelong glance at Jackson, Gibbs could only shake his head mentally, knowing without a doubt where he got his stubbornness from; Jack had refused a gurney, insisting he was fine to sit on the bench opposite Abby's bed, grumbling when the paramedics had insisted on strapping him in in return.

"They really did a number on her," Jackson mumbled, startling his son who thought he was asleep. "The guy was bad enough but the lady had a real mean streak."

Gibbs' shoulders tensed, thinking of Paloma Reynosa, of how the woman had escaped while they'd been focused on searching the house for Abby and Jackson. "She's no lady, Dad."

"That I know." A look Gibbs couldn't decipher – decided he didn't want to decipher – passed over his father's face. Jackson closed his eyes and sighed, an almost defeated sound.

His father looked old, Gibbs thought. Far older than he had the last time he'd seen him. "You should stay at my place for a while," Gibbs murmured, his tone making it more like an order than a suggestion. When his father opened his eyes and looked about to protect, Gibbs gave him the same quelling look he used on his agents. "You'll need to take some time to recover, Jack, and I'd feel better knowing you were somewhere safe until we find her."

Jackson stared at him in silence for a few moments, a dozen emotions flittering over his face before acceptance overruled them all. "If you insist."

"I do." Gibbs glanced back at the woman lying no more than a few feet away, wishing he could fool himself into thinking she was just sleeping, something the cuts and bruises and dried blood refused to let him do. "Abby'll need some help getting around the place, too," he decided swiftly.

"She'll be staying with us?" Jackson didn't sound surprised but he arched an eyebrow at his son when Gibbs looked at him. "Don't you think you should ask her first...?"

"She's hardly in a position to say no," Gibbs pointed out. "And I'd like to keep my eye on her, too. Just in case Paloma comes back."

"What about the girlfriend? Shouldn't you check with her?" Jackson frowned at the look of confusion on Gibbs' face. "Abby mentioned you were seeing someone."

Gibbs' arched an eyebrow in an imitation of the look his father had given him. "You had nothing better to do than talk about my love life?"

"Well, no. It came up in conversation." Jackson shrugged and closed his eyes, opening them again to study his son's reaction as he continued. "The guy – Alejandro? He thought you and Abby... He implied the reason they'd taken us both was to have both your father and your lover." He paused, watching his words sink in. "Abby told me that wasn't the case. She said you weren't interested in her, that you were seeing someone else."

"Abby's wrong." Gibbs let his gaze stray back to her, unwittingly giving the hand he was holding a squeeze. "I'm not seeing anyone," he added belatedly, though the speculative look had already passed over Jackson's features when his gaze returned to his father's face. "You deserve to know why you were taken. Who they are."

Jackson shook his head. "I know as much as I need to for now, son. Wake me when we get to the hospital." With a sigh, he closed his eyes, effectively ending the conversation.

Gibbs stared at him for a few moments longer before turning his attention back to Abby, his mind whirling as he resumed his vigil in silence.

* * *

For a moment, she thought she'd woken up in the guestroom Paloma and Alejandro had kept her and Jackson in. Only the steady beeping of the machines around her and the smile that blossomed across Jackson's face told her that she hadn't.

"So you finally decided to join us, huh?" Relief took years off his face, years their short ordeal had added. "Leroy won't be happy you woke up the one time I convinced him to take a break."

"Gibbs was here?" Abby arched an eyebrow in surprise. She tried to push herself up into a sitting position but the pain in her ribs coupled with the gentle but insistent hands on her shoulders kept her down. "I thought..." She closed her eyes momentarily. "I dreamt I was looking for him."

"Maybe you were," Jackson suggested softly. "Maybe him leaving is what make you wake up." He glanced over his shoulder briefly. "I should go find him, tell him you're awake..." Still, he hesitated, his eyes locking with hers. "You're wrong, you know."

"Wrong?" Abby arched an eyebrow, fighting the urge to close her eyes and go back to sleep. The relief of knowing they were free, of seeing for herself that Jackson was alive and well and the knowledge that Gibbs was somewhere close by made her feel safe and feeling safe made her realise just how sleepy she still was. "What about?"

"The way he sees you. The way he looks at you." Jackson's expression was solemn.

Struggling to hold his gaze, though not sure if it was due to the subject matter or the drugs, Abby shook her head gingerly. "I know, Jackson. I know he see me like... Like a daughter, I guess. Not that I could replace Kelly. No one could do that," she added hurriedly.

"No, Abby..." It was Jackson's turn to shake his head, his expression affectionate. "I've seen him look that way before but it isn't like he looked at Kelly. He looks at you like he looked at Shannon. Now, I don't know about the rest of his wives... Never met them, never want to from the sounds of things but..."

"You're wrong," Abby interrupted. Her gaze fell to the needle attached to the IV next to her bed. "I know you mean well, Jackson, but..."

"I know my son, Abby." He leaned forward with a sharp intake of breath as his bruised ribs protested against the movement and covered her hand with his. "I know how he looks at the woman he loves."

"I really wish you were right but you're going to have to take my word on this." Her expression was downcast when she glanced back at him. "Gibbs isn't in love with me. I think..." She cleared her throat and looked away again. "I think things could get serious between him and the woman he's seeing now."

Remembering his son's insistence that Abby was wrong, Jackson studied her carefully. "He told you that?"

"Not in so many words, no." Abby tried to shrug, wincing when the action reminded her where she was. "But I know he sees me like a child, a daughter..."

"Has he ever said that to you?" Jackson found himself leaning closer as her voice got quieter, wanting to be sure he could trust what he was hearing. Wanting to know what it was that made her so certain she knew better than he did how his son felt about her.

"Not in so many words," she admitted with a sigh. "I said it. He didn't deny it."

"Or agree with it," he finished for her, arching an eyebrow when she looked at him. "You didn't see him when they put you in the ambulance, Abby. You didn't see him argue with the doctors and the nurses who tried to throw him out of here."

"He's worried about us, both of us," Abby protested. "You know how he gets, Jackson. He's very protective of the people he cares about."

"He's very protective of the people he loves," Jackson corrected softly, leaning back in his seat.

There was a momentary silence between them, punctuated by the beeps of the various machines still hooked up to her.

"I'm not denying he loves me. I know that," Abby said softly. "And I know he doesn't love me the way you think he does."

Jackson sighed softly, shaking his head at the expression on her face and the certainty in her voice. He wished he knew what to say to make her believe him, wished he could find the right words to describe the quiet desperation he'd seen on Gibbs' face as the doctors had listed her injuries and theorised on how she'd gotten them.


	3. Chapter 3

_You guys rock completely! *hugs to all* And here's the last part :) It's almost twice the length so hope it has everything you guys want to read :)_

* * *

The door opened before the words came to him. Jackson looked up to see his son, wondering why the flash of hope in Gibbs' eyes faded fast until he glanced back towards the bed himself and saw Abby had fallen asleep again.

"She was awake," he told his son quietly, pulling his hand back from Abby's as Gibbs approached and took the seat closer to the bed. It didn't take long, Jackson noted, for Gibbs to cover her hand with his own.

"She say anything?" Gibbs kept his gaze on her face, watching her intently as if waiting for her to wake up again.

"She said..." Hesitating, Jackson glanced between his son and the sleeping woman on the bed. When he looked back to Gibbs, it was to find blue eyes so like his own fixed on his face. "I think you should talk to her about it."

"About what?" Gibbs' eyes narrowed and Jackson noted his hand seemed to tighten over Abby's. "Is she okay? Alejandro didn't..."

"No. No!" Jackson's eyes widened as he realised what his son meant. He shook his head, sharing Gibbs' relief. "Nothing like that," he answered softly. He paused again, considering his options before continuing with a sigh. "We were talking about you, actually."

"Me?" A genuine flash of surprise lit his son's face for a moment before it vanished behind a mask of indifference. "What did she say?"

"She said..." Jackson looked between them, torn between his loyalty to his son and his loyalty to the young woman who was rapidly beginning to mean so much to him. He'd never promised her what they discussed would be done so in confidence, he told himself; Abby hadn't asked him to. "She's definitely sure you're involved with another woman," he settled for saying eventually, "and she's definitely sure you're not interested in her in a romantic way." He arched an eyebrow at Gibbs' stunned look. "You can't be surprised."

"At what part?" Gibbs murmured, running the hand that wasn't holding Abby's through his hair.

"At the part about her being sure you're not interested," Jackson clarified. "And in me being interested enough to ask." He shrugged when his son looked at him blankly. "You're my son, Leroy. I'd like to see you happy. I have a right to interfere when I think I could do something to help that happen."

"And you think what you're doing now is going to help?" A note of embarrassed irritation crept into Gibbs' voice. "Talking with Abby behind my back?"

"Getting to the bottom of this, banging your heads together if I have to..." Jackson shrugged and looked away. "I think that might help."

"I don't know what you think you need to get to the bottom of," Gibbs began, only to be cut off by his father giving him a hard look he normally used himself on his agents.

"I need to get to the bottom of the root of this miscommunication between the two of you," Jackson explained. He lifted his arm, planning on running his hand through his hair in frustration only to stop at the jarring pain the action produced. He waved off Gibbs' concern and frowned at his son instead. "Why does she think you're involved with someone? And why have you let her go on believing you love her like a daughter when you and I both know that couldn't be further from the truth?" His glare hardened when Gibbs opened his mouth to protest. "I've seen the way you look at her, Leroy. I've seen the way she makes you smile. Only one other woman besides your mother could make you smile like that and you know as well as I do who that was."

Shannon.

The name filled the air between them.

Gibbs had resigned himself to the fact there would never be a woman who meant as much to him as his first wife some time ago. Even his second wife, and his third and fourth, hadn't been able to hold a candle to the memory of the redheaded beauty who'd taken his heart and his breath within moments of him first laying eyes on her.

She'd touched him in ways no one else could, made him feel alive, given him a reason to fight and defend his country with everything in him so he could come home to her loving arms.

Part of him had died with her and Kelly, retreated so far into himself that he started to forget what it was like to life more than just the half-life he'd created.

Until Abby, Gibbs realised with a familiar ache in his chest.

Abby, who hadn't been dissuaded by his initial scepticism of her abilities. Abby, whose smile could light up a room and make his own lips twitch with the need to smile with her.

Abby, whose boundless enthusiasm and determination to see those around her happy had begun to wake up areas he'd condemned to darkness some years before they'd met.

But, his conscious reminded him, she was *Abby*. Abby, who could sometimes seem too young and untouched by the cruelty in the world around her. Abby, who could look after herself – had done for a long time before he'd walked into her life – but who he felt an undeniable need to protect, even if the protection was from himself and the hurt he was worried he'd inflict on her if he gave into his feelings.

Watching the play of emotions pass over his son's face, Jackson nodded to himself and held Gibbs' gaze when the younger man turned his head to look at him. "You know how rare it is to find someone you feel that way about, someone who feels that way about you. You'd be a damn fool to let this chance slip away from you, and a selfish one to deprive Abby of the experience. I didn't think your mother and I raised a fool, Leroy. Don't prove me wrong."

A small nod was the only response he got but Jackson sat back in his chair, a little more relaxed than he had been, hopeful that his words had done some good and that his son would do the right thing.

* * *

The sight of the hospital room around her was still as disorientating the second time as it had been the first. Abby blinked, her brain sluggish with the various doses of medication running through her body and stared in confusion at first when she caught sight of the man sleeping in the chair beside her bed.

Gibbs' usually immaculate suit was crumpled and she could see the telltale signs of yesterday's stubble on his face, a sure sign he hadn't been home despite no doubt having been told to leave by both the nurses on duty and other friends who she knew would have been willing to sit with her while she slept.

The events of the previous day returned to her slowly and she found herself blinking again, her mind unable to process the fact so much had happened in such a small space of time. After a few more moments passed and the various aches and pains in her body began to register, Abby found herself feeling more grateful than ever that the ordeal hadn't lasted any longer; she wasn't sure she would have survived it if it had.

She followed the line of his arm, noting he seemed to be reaching for something, an eyebrow shooting up when she realised the warmth she felt around her own hand was actually his. Pleasantly surprised, Abby turned her hand under his, entwining their fingers, and contented herself with watching him sleep.

He looked unguarded, something she rarely saw, though evidence of the strain he'd felt could be seen in the shadows under his eyes and the stubble she'd already noticed on his face. Still, there was something undeniably peaceful about the way he slept, almost as if in slumber the pain he'd felt over the years could be momentarily forgotten.

After what felt like only a few minutes, Gibbs began to stir. She watched him through hooded eyes, a small smile playing on her lips despite the dull ache she was beginning to feel in her chest. He frowned first, his brow furrowing as the fingers entwined with hers twitched. Then he yawned and opened his eyes, closing them again only for them to open straight away as he sat up straighter, tension returning to him as he remembered where he was and why he was there.

Her smile was tired but in place when he looked at her, relief flashing in his eyes when he realised she was awake replaced by mild embarrassment when he realised she'd been watching him sleep. He didn't let the emotion linger on his face for long, distracting them both by getting up out of his chair only to settle himself on the edge of her bed. He helped her up into an upright position but paused when a low groan escaped her.

"You okay? You want a doctor or a nurse...?"

"I'm fine." She took a deep breath before moving again, grateful for the support of his hands against her aching body as he helped her. "I bet I look better than you do," she added with a little more cheer in her voice once she was settled against the pillows he quickly rearranged behind her. "Have you been home at all since you found us?"

The sheepish expression on his face said it all. "I've been busy."

"Busy pestering the medical staff, I'm sure." Abby arched an eyebrow, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. She licked her lips and gave him a teasing smile. "You know, they're just trying to do their…"

Her words were cut off with the sudden pressure of his lips against hers. She stared at him, eyes wide open in shock for several moments before relaxing into the kiss, her eyes sliding shut as one of his hands moved to the back of her head while the other cupped her cheek tenderly.

After a few moments, Gibbs drew back, uncertainty flashing momentarily in his eyes until he took in the dazed look on her flushed face and the slight smile playing around her lips. "I have what is arguably the world's worst case of morning breath and you choose now to kiss me? Seriously?"

The smile on her face took away any sting or doubt her words might have created.

Gibbs found himself grinning back at her, not sure if it was due to relief or the infectious smile on her own face. "We can always try it again, Abby. When you're stronger."

"You promise?" Her eyes lit up and he couldn't keep his grin from growing wider, ducking his head to hide it for a moment before lifting his face to press his lips against her cheek.

"I promise, Abs."

"Good." Evidently satisfied with the promise, Abby settled back against the pillows but clung to his hand stubbornly. "So you gonna tell me what's going on? I vaguely remember Alejandro being… out of the picture… but what happened with his sister?"

A shadow passed over his face, answering her question before he started to speak. "She got away. We're looking for her, Abby," he added on seeing the flash of panic in her eyes, wrapping his hand around her own and squeezing her fingers. "Until we find her, you and Jack will be staying with me."

"Jack?" Abby's gaze flittered automatically to the chair where she'd last seen the older Gibbs. "Is Jackson okay? Really? I know he said he was but…"

"He's fine." Gibbs ran his thumb over her knuckles reassuringly. "He was more worried about you than himself. Said Paloma really did a number on you."

Glancing down at herself, Abby shrugged self-consciously. She couldn't see her face but was sure it would sport bruises and healing cuts to match those she could see on her arms. "Well, I doubt I'm going to win any beauty contests right now thanks to her and her brother but it could be worse. I thought he was going to kill me when he realised…"

He gave her a moment, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he lifted the hand that wasn't wrapped around hers to touch her chin, tipping her face up gently so she had no choice but to look at him. "When he realised what?"

"When he realised he was wrong. About us." Her expression changed and she lowered her gaze, fixating on his chin rather than holding his gaze. "He thought we were together. I told him we weren't."

"You're wrong, you know." Recalling the conversation with his father and Jackson's comments that Abby believed he was involved with someone else, Gibbs waited until she looked up at him. "There is no one else. You really think I'd have kissed you if there was?"

The look on her face said no but the doubt he saw in her eyes told him she wasn't so sure. "I know there's something between you and Bell's lawyer. Ms. Hart. You know she's interested, Gibbs."

"Doesn't mean I am." He ran a gentle finger over the bruise on her cheek, pleased when she leaned into his touch. He watched her silently for several moments, studying her intently, committing everything about the way she looked as she closed her eyes and leaned into him to memory. She looked peaceful despite the bruises, maybe even content. When she opened her eyes and gazed at him, a sleepy smile curving her lips, he couldn't resist leaning down to brush his lips against hers. "Get some sleep, Abs. I'll see what I can do about getting you out of here soon."

She gave him a grateful smile and let him help ease her back down on the bed, a sure sign that she was still suffering the effects of the ordeal. She reached out for his hand once she was comfortable settled against the pillows, holding it in both of hers as he retook his place in the chair at the side of her bed, scooting it a little closer to her in the process.

"Stay until I fall asleep?" Her eyelids were already drooping as she made the request.

Bringing her hand up to his mouth, he brushed his lips against her knuckles softly. "I'll stay as long as you want me to, Abby."

With a smile on her face, Abby slipped back into a peaceful, healing slumber.

* * *

Her recovery progressed well enough over the next week for the doctor in charge of her case to agree on her medical discharge on the condition that there would be someone around to help her out. The cast on her arm would be cumbersome enough without the added inconvenience of her recovering knee injury and healing ribs but Gibbs and Jackson had quickly volunteered their services, the older man giving Abby a wink over his son's shoulder at Gibbs' insistence that she be released into their care.

Abby had wanted to insist she'd be fine on her own but decided to appease Gibbs due to Paloma Reynosa still being free. It wasn't until she tried to dress herself the morning she was released that she realised she needed more help than she'd thought, a defeated expression arranging her features as a nurse helped her into her clothes.

Her expression was the first thing he noticed when he walked into the room but, having been briefed by the nurse in question, Gibbs knew and understood the reason for it. Abby was a fiercely independent woman, older and more experienced than her appearance and behaviour suggested most of the time. He understood her reluctance to rely on others and suspected it stemmed from her childhood where she'd had to grow up quickly when her deaf parents had found themselves with not one but two hearing children.

He met her downcast gaze with an easy grin, covering the area between them to press his mouth against hers briefly. Drawing back, he was pleased to see a small smile playing on her lips, one that brightened even as an eyebrow arched as he presented her with the gift he'd brought with him.

"A Caf-Gulp? Really?" She looked from the miniature cup in her hand to him and back again. "That's all I get?"

Pleased to have distracted her, Gibbs let his grin grow a little. "You'll get more when you're out of here." He kissed her again, with a little more pressure and a little more heat. "Told you that already."

"That's great, but can I have a bigger Caf-Pow, too?" Abby attempted a coy look but couldn't quite suppress the mischievous smile that accompanied it.

Gibbs arched an eyebrow but said nothing, moving away from her instead so he could pick up the small bag of personal belongings on the bed beside her. "You think you can walk out of here if you lean on me or should I go get a chair?"

Abby wrinkled her nose. "I can walk."

"You sure?" Concern warred with amusement at her determination. "Don't want you to make yourself worse..."

"I'll be fine." She rolled her eyes but couldn't quite keep from grimacing as she gingerly eased herself off the bed.

Gibbs swung her bag over his shoulder and moved close enough to her that he could wrap his arm around her waist and help support her weight. He didn't comment when she leaned into him heavily but didn't miss the quick, grateful smile that she shot him.

They made their way out of the hospital together at a slow but steady pace, with Gibbs pausing every time he sensed Abby needed a moment to catch her breath. He helped her into the passenger seat, closing the door after her before putting her bag in the trunk and walking quickly to the driver's side of the car. Settling in his seat beside her, Gibbs glanced over to see her struggling with her seatbelt and fought the urge against doing it for her; he knew she'd appreciate his help but would hate it if he tried to do things for her.

After a few moments in which he busied himself with his own seatbelt and starting the engine, Abby succeeded in securing her seatbelt and they started their journey to Gibbs' house in comfortable silence.

* * *

It was strange in that it didn't feel strange to be living with the two Gibbs men. The banter between father and son, once strained due to years of separation, seemed comfortable around her.

Though Jackson was still recovering himself, he was just as eager as his son to ensure she relaxed and did as little as possible. Abby found that while Gibbs was at work, Jackson entertained her and kept her mind off being unable to work herself, usually by telling her stories about his son as a child. Abby was sure she had enough little Gibbs stories to keep herself in Caf-Pow's for the foreseeable future.

When he was home, Gibbs was as attentive as she'd ever known him. He didn't go overboard – didn't crowd her or make her feel like an invalid but he seemed to be there whenever she needed him, seemed to know whenever she was getting tired or needed another dose of pain killers.

The only thing that disappointed her as the days passed in quick succession was that there didn't seem to be any follow up to what he'd started in the hospital. There'd been one or two close calls, near misses where she'd thought he was about to kiss her only for Jackson or one of their well-meaning friends to interrupt before he actually did something.

She shook her head and took a breath before pushing herself up off the bed she'd been using in the master bedroom. Gibbs had insisted she used the biggest bed, and that his father use the newly arranged spare room. The man himself spent what Abby was sure were restless nights on an old camp bed in the living room.

Her bruised body ached as she stood but the pain was somewhat lessened by the painkillers she'd taken earlier. Abby longed for a long, lazy soak in the bath but knew she wasn't up for either getting into it or getting out. Settling instead for a shower, she promised herself with a sigh that as soon as she was able – before she moved back into her apartment – she'd take advantage of the generously sized bathtub in the en-suite bathroom.

She took a change of underwear into the bathroom with her, smiling at the sight of a fresh towel already hanging near the shower, wondering who – Gibbs or Jackson – had put it there. She shut the door behind her to keep in the heat but didn't bother locking it; both Gibbs men would respect her privacy and both would only worry about not being able to get to her quickly if she slipped and fell while showering.

Abby was halfway through her shower, washing the shampoo through her hair when the painkillers began to wear off. Her head felt full of clouds, her vision dimming momentarily. She couldn't bite back a low groan that echoed around the room.

"You okay, Abby?" At the sound of Gibbs' voice through the closed door to the bedroom, Abby jumped and felt her feet slid against the wet floor. She swore viciously and reached out to grab something to keep her from falling.

The shower curtain thankfully held but the action jarred her ribs and caused another groan to escape.

"Abby!"

His voice sounded closer and se could tell by the sudden dip in temperature that he'd opened the bathroom door. "I'm okay," she called out, knowing even as she said it that it was a lie – and one he wouldn't believe. "I'm just seeing stars. And not in the good way," she added mostly to herself.

"We'll see what we can do about that." There was a trace of amusement in his tone but he sounded mostly concerned.

She wondered if she should have felt embarrassed when he appeared on the other side of the shower curtain, instead feeling nothing but gratitude when he gently eased the curtain away, wasting no time in bundling her up in the towel she'd noticed earlier.

He lifted her out of the tub before she could protest, carrying her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, setting her down carefully on the edge of the bed before leaving her line of sight for a few moments, returning with a glass of water and two painkillers she took with a grateful smile.

He sat beside her on the bed, watching her but saying nothing. Abby felt his gaze on her and turned her head to meet it only to watch his eyes drop, his gaze following a drop of water that dripped from her hair and ran from her shoulder down towards her cleavage, disappearing eventually beneath the towel.

Her cheeks felt flushed and her breath caught in her throat when he looked up at her. She opened her mouth to speak but was kept from doing so by the pressure of his lips against hers, gentle at first but more confident, more demanding when she made no attempt at pushing him away.

His arms slid around her, holding her close but he forced himself not to tighten them around her, mindful of her healing injuries. She manoeuvred herself to sit on his lap instead, straddling him, and he felt her smile against his mouth when his hands moved up and down her spine.

Neither noticed the towel slip away.

Neither cared.

Abby pressed a hand to the back of his head, fingernails raking gently through the hair at his nape. She pressed herself against him more fully when the sensation of cool air hitting her bare skin registered, the wonder of being so close to him distracting her momentarily from the pain.

If it wasn't for the crash from downstairs and the muffled cry that sounded a few seconds later, Abby knew they wouldn't have stopped.

* * *

He deftly avoided the stair halfway down that creaked, securing his grip on his gun as the sound of voices drifted towards him.

"I should have just killed you when I first saw you." Familiar but unwelcome. Paloma Reynosa

"You should have, but you didn't." His father's voice was firm but quiet.

"We all make mistakes, old man. I will not make another where you are concerned."

"You already have, lady." Jackson told her calmly. "You think my son will let you get away with this?"

Gibbs moved in the doorway, getting a clear view of Paloma's face as she gave his father a cold, cruel smile.

"I am counting on him deciding not to." Paloma held a gun at his father's head, her hand as steady as Gibbs' own. "My father's death will only be avenged when your family no longer lives."

"Then I'm afraid to tell you his death won't be avenged." Jackson's gaze strayed momentarily to his son but focused back on the woman holding the gun at his head before she noticed. "You might kill me but you'll never get to my son."

Paloma gave a short, unpleasant-sounding laugh. "He is here, is he not? He and his lover? I'll kill you, and then I will kill her while he begs for her life. And then I will kill him."

"On your own?" Jackson arched an eyebrow. "Seems like a big undertaking."

"Who said anything about being on my own?" She smiled again and lifted the gun, her finger tightening on the trigger.

Her body fell to the floor with a muted thud while the gun she'd been holding fell from her limp hand with an impossibly loud clatter.

Jackson gave his son a relieved smile, one that faded when another, similar sounding thud came from upstairs.

"Abby."

* * *

The moment she heard the creak of the stair, Abby felt her heart begin to pound. She darted for the bathroom, almost completely closing the door but leaving a small gap so she could see who it was coming towards the room.

The footsteps didn't sound like Gibbs, nor did they sound like Jackson, and she tightened the towel around her body protectively even as she started to look around the bathroom for something she could use as a weapon.

The toilet lid caught her eye and she bit her lip, remembering a time in the past when she'd considered using it as a weapon before. Shrugging to herself, she decided that it was better than nothing and tugged it free, hugging it almost protectively to her chest as she returned to her place by the door.

The man who walked through the door, dressed all in black, wasn't familiar but the gun in his hand made her blood run cold. She held her breath as he moved further into the room, instinctively moving back when his gaze moved swiftly over the mostly closed door.

A small sigh escaped her when he went past the bathroom door. Moving as quietly as she could, she opened the door a little more and walked up behind him, lifting the toilet lid in her hands as she did. Her heart pounded in her chest and a bead of cold sweat ran down her spine as she lifted it higher, inhaling sharply before bringing it down on top of her would-be assailant's head with a sickening thud.

The stunned man crumpled to the floor before he had a chance to turn and face his attacker. Abby let the lid fall to the floor with a clatter and wrapped her arms around her upper body, the sudden rush of adrenaline deserting her now the danger was passed.

Two sets of footsteps pounding up the stairs caused her eyes to widen in alarm until she realised that the second set were slightly slower and both were familiar.

Gibbs had barely entered the room before he found himself with his arms full of Abby, still clad only in the towel he'd wrapped her in earlier. He held her tightly for a moment, until he was satisfied she was okay, reluctantly passing her over to his father so he could deal with the unconscious man sprawled out on his bedroom floor.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Jackson led her out of the room. He paused at the closet, taking out a blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders. "It's all over now," he told her quietly, rubbing her back through the blanket as they stood in the hall.

"Paloma..?" Abby glanced up at him, closing her eyes briefly at the expression on his face. "I thought I'd heard a shot but I wasn't sure..."

"She's gone." Jackson smiled at her when she opened her eyes. "You don't have to worry about her anymore. None of us do."

Abby smiled back even as her eyes stung with tears of relief. She went willingly into Jackson's arms, staying there until the team descended on Gibbs' house and took care of the body downstairs and the unconscious man, leaving Gibbs himself free to comfort her, both of them needing the reassurance the nightmare really had come to an end.

* * *

The group gathered in the same bar the aborted celebration of Ziva's newly granted citizen status had been held in. Abby and Ziva sat side-by-side at their table, sharing a smile when they caught one another's eye.

Everyone who should have been there in the first place was gathered around them, with Jackson Gibbs as a welcome addition to the close-knit group. Tony sat opposite the two ladies in his life, trying to bait McGee into a shot-drinking competition. Ducky entertained the Director and Jimmy with stories of his youth while Ziva indulged Jackson in some harmless flirting. Abby looked to the man sitting on her other side when she felt his thigh brush hers and couldn't keep the smile on her lips from growing even wider at the almost content expression on Gibbs' face.

The Reynosa Cartel was gone, the threat they'd once posed a threat no more. Gibbs' past was securely behind them where all pasts should be, leaving nothing but a future that she had every right to believe would be good.

Gibbs' hand brushed her on top of the table, in full view of anyone who might have been looking. Abby glanced around the table, blushing lightly at the approval on Jackson's face and the intrigued speculation she read on the faces of their friends. When Gibbs' fingers wrapped more firmly around her own, Abby watched Tony smirk and nudge McGee in the ribs, turned her head slightly and saw a slightly indulgent expression on Ducky's face while Ziva decided not to bother trying to hide her smile behind a glass.

The future, she decided with a happy sigh, looked very good indeed.

* * *

End.


End file.
